The Colonel Who Cried Wolf
by ShipperWriter
Summary: After meeting the Aschen, Jack starts to have reservations. Unfortunately, it seems he's the only one. It changes his world more than he will realize. Missing Scenes from "2010", all from Jack's POV.


**A/N:** After a yearlong absence from fic writing, this appeared within the span of two hours! I have a lot of fics that will be posted in due time, but first off, let's start with some old school SG-1. After all, it was my first fandom.

**Summary**: After meeting the Aschen, Jack starts to have reservations. Unfortunately, it seems he's the only one. It changes his world more than he will realize. This originally started as a missing scene fic for "2010" but soon evolved rapidly into my imagining of Jack's life in the ten years between the Aschen Alliance and the events of "2010".

**Ships:** UST Jack/Sam is implied, Sam/Joe is mentioned.

* * *

No sooner had Jack O'Neill slammed his front door shut than his home phone began ringing.

He grimaced and did an about face, heading down into the living room to answer it. He didn't spare a second to look at the caller ID. "O'Neill."

"_Sir, it's me_."

Crap. She must've heard about what happened in Washington. "Carter, I don't want to talk about it. I did three hours ago, but seeing as no one is willing to listen, I think I'm done." He snuggled the phone into his shoulder as he made his way to the kitchen.

"_What are you talking about?_"

"How I got thrown out of the Oval Office for trying to convince the President that dealing with the Aschen was not one of our brighter ideas?" The fridge had two beers left; he pulled one out and popped the cap off, sending it flying to a remote corner of the kitchen. "Actually, probably the stupidest idea ever on the face of the planet."

Someone knocked on his front door, and Jack took the beer with him to answer it.

"_I hadn't heard that, sir. But to be honest, I can understand why he would do that_."

The door opened. Carter turned around and shut her cell phone off.

Jack groaned and ended the call on his end. "Carter-"

Her face was set like stone, a mask of determination that didn't hide the disappointment too well. She pushed past him into his living room. "We need to talk."

Jack slowly shut the front door, closing his eyes as he reflected on what to say. "Carter, I'm done talking," he replied as he followed her in.

"Fine," she snapped as she turned around and propped her hands on her hips. "Then I'm gonna do the talking, and you're gonna listen."

Jack raised an eyebrow and took a swig of his beer.

She tilted her head to the side. "Sir."

Jack sighed. He swept a hand in front of him, motioning for her to speak.

"Do you realize how ridiculous you are making yourself look? You're throwing out all these accusations about the Aschen without a shred of evidence! How is anyone supposed to take you seriously?"

"And what about my gut, Carter?" he replied as he walked closer to her, almost getting in her face. "Used to be a time when you trusted it despite the evidence."

She glared hard at him. It was low, but the truth.

"I'm a scientist. And I'm seeing the proof of the Aschen's word by the wonders they're doing for us right now! There is absolutely nothing negative to counteract that!"

"It's too good to be true! And you all are so swept up by the magic tricks that you refuse to look behind the curtain!" he argued back, setting his beer bottle down on the end table before it ended up all over the floor as he emphatically swung his hands.

"They're a technologically advanced race," Carter replied, pointing a finger at him, "who has promised to help us in our fight against the Goa'uld and are asking literally for nothing in return, and you would say no to that?!"

"Carter, you never take anything at face value! You're the one that does the research and spews all the technobabble!" Jack took a step back and waved a hand at her. "The fact that you're so willing to accept this actually scares the crap outta me!"

"And the fact that you're so suspicious despite the evidence worries me! So now we're even!" Carter groaned in frustration and clenched her fists.

Jack's head dropped with a sigh. He ran his hand over the back of his neck and gritted his teeth. "You're never gonna see reason. Are you?" he asked quietly, looking up at her.

She pressed her lips together firmly. "Are you?"

"Carter, I've got a bad feeling about this. And I'm not just saying that to throw 'Star Wars' into the conversation."

She cocked her head as he sat down on the couch. "I thought you'd never seen that."

"Teal'c made me. Don't get off topic on me here," he retorted, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I just don't get why no one else sees it."

"Sir, the only thing I've seen are good results," she responded as she sat on the other end of the couch, bracing her elbows on her knees as she leaned on them. "Just give it time."

Before she was even done speaking, Jack shook his head. "No. No, no, no. Not this time. I'm not gonna wait around to see how things turn out and then get shot in the back." He looked up at her. "I'm done, Carter."

Her blue eyes widened. "What?"

"I'm done. The Aschen have some major battle planned to finish off the Goa'uld once and for all?" He nodded. "I'll do my part. Been waiting long enough to see those snakeheads go extinct. But as soon as the last snake is dead, I'm gone. SGC, Air Force, all of it."

Carter's eyes slowly shut, and her head dropped. A sigh escaped her, and a whispered sentence not loud enough for Jack to hear passed through her lips.

He craned his head. "What was that?"

"I said you don't get it." Bringing her head back up, the look she gave him was one of disbelief and betrayal. A humorless smile appeared. "Don't you see the big picture? With the Goa'uld out of the way, we can start focusing on other things."

"Yeah, like getting to know our new friends," Jack sneered, falling back into the sofa cushion.

"I don't mean we as a people. I mean-"

He looked up.

She was biting her lip. The last word wanted to come, but something was getting the better of her.

The light exploded as he finally made the connection. "Us."

Carter's head snapped up. Surprise was evident in her features, but there was something else. Something that he had seen in their earlier fight, towards the end.

_Resignation_.

He slowly voiced what he knew she was thinking. "But that's not going to happen now. Is It?"

Carter opened her mouth to reply, but she couldn't find the words. Considering that she was the smartest person that Jack knew – not to mention, on the face of the earth – her inability to speak was shocking.

She finally got her thoughts together. "How can we even think of being together when we disagree so vehemently on something so significant?"

"I'll take that as a no."

She grimaced, then laughed. "Isn't it ironic. Just when I start to see light at the end of the tunnel, this happens."

"Look, it's not like I'm disagreeing with you on purpose," he tried to reason. For what reason, he had no idea – after all, his mind had been made up. "But my intuition has never failed me before. And I can't shake the feeling that there's more going on here than meets the eye!"

She stared at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with him.

So he tried the one thing that always worked.

"Sam."

Her head lifted, but her eyes looked straight ahead.

"Why won't you even consider what I'm saying?"

Carter licked her lips. "You know something, you're right. I used to trust your gut." She turned swiftly towards him. "And you used to trust _me_."

"I still do, Carter. But right now, I don't trust anybody that's blindly going along with this plan."

"Which, as far as you're concerned, includes me."

Jack sighed. "I don't wanna fight with you. I just want someone to hear me."

"Sir, I hear you. But I can't listen to this," she replied softly, rising to leave.

Jack jumped up and repressed a yelp of pain. _Stupid knee_.

"Carter, wait. Just a minute."

"Sir, I really need to go," Carter protested, pointing towards the door.

"Sam."

She sighed, closing her eyes again. "Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Call me Sam. You haven't called me by anything but 'Carter' or my rank for years. Why are you doing that now?"

"Figure I'm gonna be retired soon, gotta get used to it."

"Jack…" she whispered, leaning backwards against the wall. "_Don't_."

Jack frowned, trying to cover the shock of her lips uttering his name. "Don't what?"

"Don't try and make me feel that way. It's not gonna happen."

"Like what?"

"Oh, God, would you stop playing stupid for just one minute?! You know exactly what you're trying to do!" She pointed a finger at him. "The door to the room is locked. Permanently. And you're the one who bolted it." She turned and opened the door. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

And before he could say one more thing, she was gone.

* * *

Within the course of a year, the war was over, the Goa'uld were history, and Jack cut all ties with his past life.

He sold his house in Colorado Springs, reasoning that he didn't want to be in the same area code as the Aschen.

The last day there, he flipped on the television.

Headlines scrolled across CNN in big, bold letters. "Confirmation of extraterrestrial life. Ring device used to travel in space. Stargate to be open to public."

And the lucky interviewee was none other than Samantha Carter, smiling brightly as she sat in her dress uniform and praised the Aschen on national television.

Jack couldn't bear it.

Especially seeing the ring sitting on her left hand.

He turned it off and unplugged it, then dropped the cord. If he was going to live out the rest of his solitary life in Minnesota, then that was the way he wanted it. Solitary.

* * *

Six months later, Jack found a letter on his front step. No postage, no return address. Just his first name written on the front in the very recognizable handwriting of a certain archeologist.

There was a carefully folded, handwritten letter inside with different script, but he ignored it and read the card that Daniel had inserted.

"_Hope you're doing okay. Minnesota looks nice this time of year. Guess you're out fishing someplace. Missed you at the wedding. Thought you'd come. It was beautiful. So was Sam_."

Jack put the card back into the envelope, then threw it in the firepit.

* * *

About a year and a half later, another familiar face from his past ends up on his doorstep.

Jack opens the front door. "General."

George Hammond shakes his head. "Not anymore. Can we talk?"

Jack invites him in.

"It's been a while, Jack. How've you been?"

"Oh, you know. Keeping busy," he replies as he sits on his couch. "Lots to do when you're retired. Paying bills, cooking dinner, making moonshine out in the woods."

His words don't even phase Hammond. "You were right."

Jack sits frozen for a moment, and then slowly leans forward. "About retirement?"

"The Aschen have fooled the masses, Jack. I don't know what made you think that from the start, but you're right. They've excluded Doctor Fraiser from any more medical work. Even Doctor Carter doesn't have access to some of their more prominent projects."

Jack takes a swig of the beer that's sitting on the table, then instantly regrets it as the flat taste reminds him that it was dinner the night before. "Still going by Carter, huh?"

Hammond sighs, realizing that Jack was trying to sidetrack him from the point. "Jack, I'm not here to talk about Sam. I'm here to tell you that we made a mistake."

"George, there was no _we._ I was against it from the beginning. And everyone that I talked to basically acted like I needed a psych exam. Including you, who ordered me to take a week of leave to 'sort things out,'" Jack replies with air quotes. He directs a glare at his former commanding officer. "Things are screwed up now. What do you want from me, to say 'I told you so'?"

Hammond sighs and takes a seat next to him. "Jack, I'm risking a lot coming up here. As it stands right now, my family is in hiding because some people in the Aschen government think that I'm sticking my nose where I shouldn't be."

Jack drops his head. Rubbing a hand over his hair, he grumbles, "Crap."

"Believe me, I'm not saying any of this lightly. But if there is anything to be done to try and rectify this, then I need your help."

Jack stands up. "I may not have TV anymore, but I know full well that the Aschen control everything on Earth right now. There _is_ nothing to be done."

"Jack, please."

"I'm sorry, George," Jack responds, looking between Hammond and the door. "I think you should go."

The older man heaves a heavy sigh, then stands and walks out the door without another word. He only stops long enough to give Jack one last look, one that he interprets as disappointment.

As much as it pains him, Jack still closes the door behind him.

* * *

A week later, he runs into town to grab some food for the pantry. The small grocery store still carries an old-fashioned newspaper stand.

The bolded black headline stops Jack in his tracks.

"_**George Hammond, former commander of SGC, dead at 61**_."

Jack buys a copy of it, reads the obituary that he doesn't doubt had been altered from the truth, and uses the rest of it in the fireplace.

* * *

He isn't quite sure how ten years have passed this slowly.

Apparently you don't lose your mind when you only go into town once a month and spend most of your time casting a reel into the pond that has somehow become repopulated with fish. Out here, it feels like time has left him behind. His cabin runs on simple electricity, none of the "innovative power generators" that the Aschen began delivering across the globe shortly after their presence became known. He had no internet, no television, and no technology that would serve to remind him of the life that he refused to support.

Mail was still delivered, but to a PO box in town. Most of the time, even when he made a trip in, he would ignore the pile that Fred told him was piling up.

So Fred brought him a bundle of mail one day.

Jack sat on the dock, sorting through it. In the seven months since he'd last collected his mail, Daniel had written to him twice, his doctor had apparently given up hope on ever seeing Jack O'Neill in his office for a physical, and the Aschen had requested his presence at a ten year anniversary celebration of the alliance.

He picked the letters from Daniel out of the pile and set them aside. There was a growing collection of letters from former friends and colleagues that, occasionally, Jack would randomly pick a letter from and try to read it all the way through before crumpling it up and throwing it in the garbage.

The only one he had succeeded with was from Carter.

It was sitting in a drawer in his bedroom. She had written it about eight years ago, shortly after he had retired and moved up to the secluded cabin but just before her wedding. The first half of the letter seemed to be a log of what her life was like now, working on different projects with the Aschen, keeping in touch with Daniel and Teal'c, and changing her last name.

He wanted so badly to add it to the pile of letters that were serving as fire fodder, but he couldn't make himself do it. Especially after reading the last paragraph.

_I'm sorry with how things got left between us. I never meant to hurt you. I wish I knew the right thing to say or do to heal our friendship. I hope you figure out what you want in life. Please don't be a stranger. I still care about you more than I supposed to._

_Always, Sam_

No matter how many times he read it, Carter's last sentence tugged at his heart the same way. He never held out the hope that maybe things would work out in their favor, especially after her marriage to Joseph Faxon.

But it made him reminisce about the good ol' days, the days before they went to P4C-970.

He shook his head. He'd done a little too much reminiscing over the past ten years.

He flipped through the envelopes again, and found one that was strange to him. The handwriting identified the sender instantly; he'd seen that scribble on too many mission reports to count.

_Carter_.

The other pieces of mail were unceremoniously dumped into the grass as he opened the letter.

It was a card, short and sweet.

_Hey. Guess you know why this got sent. We haven't seen you in ages, sir. I know you want nothing to do with the Aschen, and I think I've finally come to respect your decision, but it would be nice for SG-1 to get together again. Let me know if you can make it. I'll save you a seat._

_Sam_

Jack flipped the card over, half expecting to see some PS written on the back, but found nothing.

The envelope went into the garbage.

The card took up residence inside the drawer, next to the letter.

* * *

The backside of the cabin was messy.

The canoe, which hadn't been used since a drunken night six years ago, was propped upside down on the embankment. The grass hadn't been cut in a few weeks.

And as Jack ran a hand over the thick stubble on his chin, he realized that he hadn't shaven for a few days, either.

Not like he had anyone to impress.

He could excuse the chaos by saying he hadn't been home for a month. He had taken his truck, parked a camper in the bed, and taken off for an even more remote location, one so far away from any other human that he had to bring two gas canisters just to ensure that he'd have enough.

He hadn't been home for more than a half hour before the state of his cabin starting irking him.

The sound of someone knocking on his screen door startled him. In days past, he would've dropped the bait bucket in his hands, found a defensive weapon, and carefully edged around the side of the house.

Nowadays, he just didn't care.

A ridiculously long white coat and all too familiar blonde hair greeted him.

"Hey."

He stands in shock for a moment. "Hey," he responds, not knowing what else to say when Samantha Carter just shows up out of the blue after ten years.

Her blue eyes roam around the area. "So this is the place you kept threatening to take me," she tries in a light manner, but Jack is still speechless.

After not saying much for the last ten years, he reasoned he would have a lot more to say now.

She looks back at him. "It's good to see you, sir."

A flashback to a similar moment with Kowalsky briefly interrupts him. "I'm retired, Carter. Lose the 'sir'."

Carter nodded, though probably more to herself than him as he takes a seat on the wooden chair, placing the bait box on the table next to it.

"Jack," she says, trying out his name for the first time in ages, from the sound of it.

It's enough. "What are you doing here?"

Carter pauses for just a second before replying. He can already see in her eyes what she's about to say, and it makes his stomach turn. "It turns out we made a mistake. A big one."

"Which one?" he asks lightly. "We made a few."

"Our alliance with the Aschen."

In another life, Jack would have laughed and grinned at this. Possibly said "I told you so".

But that life had faded into oblivion years prior.

Instead, he resurrected his old friend. Sarcasm.

"Oh, that. Not working out, is it? Gosh, I wish I'd seen that coming. Oh wait." He leans forward. "I did see that coming."

"It isn't what you thought," Carter quickly replies, rubbing her hands as she ponders her next words.

"A couple of days ago, I found out that I can't ever have children."

Carter could've said that she had grown a third arm, and it wouldn't have shocked him as much as this admission did.

He sighs. "I'm sorry to hear that," saying it in earnest.

She nods. "So was I."

As she explained how the Aschen had sterilized ninety percent of Earth's population without their knowledge, Jack briefly thought about Hammond. Was this was he had come to talk to him about? Something so sinister, so vile, that they would kill to keep it quiet?

And yet, he found himself posing the same question to Carter that he had to Hammond.

"So what do you want me to do about it?"

"Help us."

"Do what?"

"We can undo this."

Jack groaned angrily. "Oh, here we go," he grimaced, rising from his chair and walking towards the front yard.

He sensed her presence behind him. She explained their plan: to predict a solar flare, use a GDO to dial the right address at the right time and send a message to the past, warning them not to visit P4C-970.

Jack just shook his head. "Let me tell you something, Carter. You want to erase your mistakes? That's your business. My conscience is clear. I warned everybody, I threw up the red flag and everybody – including you – shut me down."

Earnest eyes stared back at him. "I'm asking you to put that behind us."

"You're not happy with the way things turned out? I'm sorry to hear that. Personally, I like things the way they are."

_Not really, but I'm not in the mood to psychoanalyze my life right now_.

"No more saving the world, just a nice pond with no pesky fish in it-"

_Which was a lie. There were two inside the grill as he spoke_.

"—and the single most pressing issue in my life is whether or not to get a dog."

_Completely made that up_.

"There're a lot of pros and cons to consider."

"Jack, I'm talking about the future of the human race," she responds, blue eyes blazing into his.

His brown gaze is almost steely. "So was I."

Jack finishes off the debate by throwing in a snub at her husband, and she storms off soon afterwards.

He watches her walk down the driveway, presumably to a car parked at the end, and eventually wanders back around the cabin to finish picking up the junk in the yard.

By the time he's collected enough beer bottles to make a small pyramid, he sinks down against the back of the house. His eyes look around his property, his supposed paradise, and wishes that he was someplace else. How is it that, by the end of the conversation where he'd stood his ground, he still felt so immeasurably bad?

He rubs his chin again. Bristles scrape his palm, but he doesn't care. Maybe Carter was right. She usually was, anyways. If they succeed, everything will reset, for lack of a better word. They will have never met the Aschen. The world will still be popping out babies.

And maybe, just maybe, he and Carter still have a chance.

He stands up, walks inside, and shaves.

His olive green baseball cap that he always wore off world still sits atop his dresser. He stares for a moment, then picks it up and looks at his reflection in the mirror.

Then he grabs the keys and drives into town to use the computer in the back room of Fred's store, looking up Tour Hours at Stargate Command.

Twenty four hours later, he never existed.

fin.

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you for reading!


End file.
